What kind of person prefers to be alone on a family holiday?
My alarm went off at 6am because I forgot to turn it off last night so I could sleep in. I got up, disoriented and bleary-eyed, and was puttering around for 10 minutes before I realized I didn’t need to get ready for work. I was still brain-fogged enough to crawl back under the covers and sleep some more, but the coffee was already brewing, so hell. Might as well fix the turkey.
Yeah, I got a turkey. I like the smell of Thanksgiving even when I’m alone.
I’m alone today by choice. I chose it over and over again this month. I’ve been and still am ambivalent about it. It’s a day off. It’s just another Thursday in a year full of Thursdays. But it’s also a time for community. Friends and family.
So I cried a little when I was making the stuffing–all I could think was that it’s a weird person who chooses to be alone on a family holiday. Then I wondered why I was feeling pathetic. What preconceived notion do I have that makes me feel that something’s wrong with me for wanting to spend today by myself? And why did I want this? What, I couldn’t choose Friday? The weekend? Will I regret this?
I don’t think so.
I love my sons. My friends. I could phone any of them and say, “I’m coming over, set a place for me,” and I would be warmly enveloped. But I don’t want to. I’m spending today thinking of all that’s good in my life, and I’m focusing on myself.
Things have gone awry lately–I’ve set goals that I’ve wandered away from due to daily distractions and I need to reground myself. I don’t have any fires to put out, just for today. Today is the perfect day for it because everyone is focused on being with. Family. Friends. Lovers.
The normal thing, right?
So have I got a screw loose? Yeah, probably. But I’m happy. I know who loves me, they know I love them, and I’m enjoying the solitude.